


Strength in Weaknesses

by Inkpot



Series: Port in a Storm [4]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurities, Kaito needs to stop Poker Face-ing at everyone who wants to help him, M/M, Shinichi needs to let people take care of him once in a while, names are important, these idiots are not listening to me lately, tried making it romantic really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 00:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12157545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkpot/pseuds/Inkpot
Summary: Kaito picks Shinichi up after a tough case. One where he actually had to be Shinichi.





	Strength in Weaknesses

**Author's Note:**

> Got a request for KaiShin. I hope this satisfies. It's more platonic/less romantic than intended, but sometimes you just gotta let the characters do what they will. Which I figured out after fighting this for the past few days. 
> 
> Set in some nebulous future time in the Port in a Storm 'verse, where Kaito has apparently chilled enough to actually hang out with his detectives. Fingers crossed that we reach that point in the main story.

Shinichi sighed and wiped his brow. He was sweating again. Not so much that he expected the change soon, but enough to notice.

“Hey, Kudo,” Hattori whispered. “Still good? Need a, uh, breather?”

“I’m fine,” he said, managing a smile. “Trust me, when the change gets close, you'll know.”

“Not reassuring.”

“Yeah, well, at least there’s any warning. I’ve got at least an hour, spare clothes in my bag, and Agasa on call just in case.”

“Planned it out, huh?”

Shinichi smirked. “Under duress. I’ve been warned that if I don’t take care of myself while I’m here, the consequences will be dire.” He glanced down at his watch. “Speaking of consequences, I have to go.”

“Need a lift somewhere? You know my bike can take us both.”

“No, I’ll be fine. Someone’s picking me up.” He grumbled about overprotective busybodies for a moment before giving Hattori a quick goodbye and heading out.

The building where the murder took place didn’t have much in the way of a yard, more like a wide alley that passes between several complexes on the street and a small park. Sitting on the short brick wall beside a dark motorcycle was a figure dressed all in black, down to the black baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.

Shinichi paused, just to be safe (it could always be Vermouth, after all), and the person offered him a smile and wave. “Yo, Meitantei. Beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

Shinichi rolled his eyes and approached without fear. “I told you I would call when the investigation ended, you didn’t have to wait out here the whole time.”

“You didn’t call.”

“Because I knew you’d be here anyway and didn’t want to waste more of your time than you’d done yourself.” He stopped to examine the motorcycle briefly before looking up and smirking. “Was I wrong?”

Kaito smirked right back. “Right on the mark. So if I call tantei-han, will I hear you’ve been taking proper care of yourself? Not forgetting to sleep and eat?”

“You’ll hear a dial tone because he hung up.” Shinichi watched as he pulled a long strap of some kind out of a bag. “That aside, I actually have. Haibara said the cure would last longer if my body wasn’t overstressed.”

“Did she? I’ll have to thank her for that. Get on, we’re going to my place.”

Shinichi blinked, though he willingly climbed on and clipped the offered straps around both of their waists. (He shouldn’t pass out mid-ride, but the concession made Kaito feel better, so he could put up with it for a little while.) “But don’t you live pretty far from here?”

Kaito passed him a helmet and paused before putting his own on to give Shinichi a flat look. It took an embarrassingly long moment for his mistake to register. “Right. Safehouse.”

“Mhm. Say something if we need to stop, the helmets are wirelessly linked.” Of course they were. “Now hang on tight.”

The ride didn’t take too long, maybe fifteen minutes or so. As it turned out, the safehouse was actually a perfectly ordinary looking house. Shinichi could tell from Kaito’s snickering that he didn’t quite keep the surprise off his face.

“What, did you expect a dilapidated warehouse? Or maybe a fabulous mansion? Ooh, ooh, how about an old shack in the woods?”

Shinichi whapped him in the head with the helmet before heading up the front walk, leaving the laughing idiot to follow at his leisure. To his credit, Kaito composed himself quickly enough and unlocked the door to let them in.

Once inside, Kaito left his hat on the coatrack and pretty near dragged Shinichi to the living room. “Sit. Stay. I’ll make food, there’s no way you had a real meal since you transformed and no, vitamins and energy bars don’t count. You’ll need energy to handle transforming back and you are going to get it. Remote’s in the top drawer.” With that he vanished into the kitchen.

Shinichi blinked bemusedly for several seconds before shrugging and turning on the TV. He didn’t see a channel guide, though, so he just left it on some sitcom and leaned back in his seat.

When Kaito came back some time later, he dragged in a tray table heavy with food. Shinichi boggled for a moment (“There is physically no way I can eat all of that.” “You’d let my cooking go to waste? D:”) before digging in. If he were honest, it had been a bit since he’d had a full meal, but he’d gone longer. Still…

He glanced sidelong at Kaito, who was ostensibly watching the cartoon that was now playing but looked over at Shinichi a little too often to make the story work. He’d been worried. He always worried when a tough case came up. Shinichi pushed down a misplaced pang of guilt – what could he even do to help, not take cases? As if. Kaito wouldn’t want that anyway.

Whatever was playing on TV had ended and some other show was playing when Shinichi declared defeat by too much food. Kaito cast a critical eye over the leftovers and nodded, bringing the tray plus his own plate back to the kitchen. Then he returned and squished himself into the chair next to Shinichi. That got him an exasperated eye roll, but Shinichi made room as best he could.

“So how much longer?” Kaito asked, barely looking away from the screen.

“An hour or two, probably. The range gets more erratic on stronger doses.” He contemplated his physical state. “Yeah, probably an hour.”

Something in Kaito’s face shuttered, and Shinichi frowned even as his expression resolved into a smile. “We’ll just have to make the most of that time, huh?” he says, throwing an arm around Shinichi’s shoulders to steal the remote. One of the better arm-around-shoulders maneuvers he’d seen, actually. It was almost believable if it weren’t Kaito.

He managed a discreet look at Kaito’s expression. Perfectly neutral, of course, but that was telling in and of itself. What would make him go full poker face? Not the unpleasantness of Shinichi’s coming transformation, he’d be more likely to at least wince sympathetically rather than… oh.

He’d be back to Conan in an hour. He almost never accepted affection as Conan, and only grudgingly when it was forced on him. It made him feel… small, helpless, all the things he couldn’t stand about his child’s form. Kaito was good about that, never holding back at KID heists and the like, but he was a pretty affectionate person. It wasn’t easy for him to hold back that part of him.

Shinichi barely suppressed a yawn, effectively cutting his train of thought short. Kaito pulled him in closer, and he didn't complain. He could worry about this when he wasn’t half dead from case-based exhaustion.

When he next opened his eyes, it was to a prickling heat that he wished was less familiar. “Starting,” he mumbled, still bleary eyed with sleep.

His side was suddenly chilled as Kaito moved, but some of the warmth returned when he pulled Shinichi up and over to the couch so he could lie down properly. A moment later the full force of the transformation hit.

After a seeming eternity, he opened his eyes and managed a smile for a worried Kaito. “Hey. Long time no see.”

That got him a bright smile. Too bright, actually. “I’ll go get some food, okay?” he said, jumping to his feet.

Shinichi just missed catching his sleeve, but Kaito turned back anyway at the frustrated noise he made. “Something wrong?”

“It’s not- I just- come here for a second.” As soon as Kaito returned to grabbing distance, Shinichi snagged his sleeve and pulled him down, determinedly not thinking about the fact that Kaito had let him do that. He focused instead on gathering the magician in his arms as best he could with this too-small body. “‘Sokay,” he murmured. “I’m not hurt.”

Shaky hands settled on his shoulders, running along his arms (reminding him that he had yet to change clothes, better do that soon) and back, then down his sides, all the way to his feet. He held still at the cursory examination, understanding perfectly well what Kaito was doing.

Kaito took a shaky breath and pulled back, smile a lot smaller than before, but more genuine. “I know. I’ll get that food, and then maybe you’d like a shower?”

He shuddered. “Ugh, yes. I smell like l’eau d’apotoxin or something,” he grumbled, intentionally mispronouncing the French to make Kaito wince.

“I’ll get right on that, then,” the magician said with a pained smile.

Shinichi chuckled, faintly evil grin melting into something more fond. It wasn’t too bad to let someone care for him once in a while.

Not too often, though. He had an image to maintain darn it.

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, Heiji thinks Ai threatened Shinichi about caring for himself. In reality it was Kaito and involved some threats about being tied to a bed that got pointed eyebrow raises in response. Cue flustered Kaito b/c _that is not what he meant_ and _no_.


End file.
